Terminus Ad Quem
by burnmybread
Summary: Craig Tucker left South Park behind two years ago. Now he's back, and everything is different. For better or worse? Who can say. All he knows is that it has absolutely nothing to do with him.
1. Chapter 1

Craig Tucker hated a lot of things, but at the top of the list had to be airports. They were always crowded with loud people with louder, screaming babies, packed up like sardines to take the shitty, boring sky bus to the next shitty, boring airport. Not to mention there was something about him that kept getting him 'randomly selected' and he had to get an intimate pat down from a lady that definitely wasn't his type. Ugh.

Fortunately, his time in airport hell was almost over as he sat at one of the many small cafes present, sipping on his overpriced coffee and biding his time for his dad to come pick him up. The drive from South Park to Denver was about two hours but Thomas should be on his way by now. Craig groaned and pulled out his phone, disengaging airplane mode to watch the messages pour in.

One, of course, was from his mom. Typical "I love you I'm so glad you'll be home" message. This wasn't the first time he'd received one of those texts since he announced that he was coming back. One was from his dad, about an hour and a half ago, saying that he was on his way. Another still from Tricia, stating that she had a present for him for when he got home. Nice.

Craig wasn't really in much contact with anyone from home. He and Clyde had gone to the same college so they still hung out sometimes, but for the most part, Craig had dropped off the face of the earth as far as his old friends from South Park were concerned. He'd been determined to leave everything behind when he left; all the bullshit, all the weird stuff, all the lies. Everything. So, the last text to come in both confused and pissed him off.

 _From: Kenny McCormick_

 _When you get back in town, hit me up. Got something to show you._

God damn it. Fuck that guy. He hadn't been back in Colorado _ten fucking minutes_ and one of South Park's top four magnets for crazy bullshit was already trying to get him into something that would no doubt be long and arduous and make no fucking sense whatsoever. The two years he spent at college were almost normal and there was no way he was going to get involved with any of that shit ever again.

Craig started to type a scathing response, but thought better of it and just deleted it. Out of sight, out of mind. Or something. "How did he know I was back? Gooood damn it." An elderly woman at the café shook her head disapprovingly at Craig's outburst, so he flipped her off and left.

Most of his stuff had been shipped home, so he only had a small carry-on bag with him. He'd just wait at the passenger pick up area for his dad and hope for the best. After about fifteen minutes of heavy sighing and flipping through Facebook, Thomas pulled up to the side walk. He got out to pull Craig into a manly side hug before they both loaded up in the car and started the long drive back to South Park.

"Are you happy to be back?" Thomas ventured, sounding a bit awkward, like he wasn't sure how he was supposed to talk to him.

"Not really." Craig deadpanned and stared out the window while leaning heavily against the door. He didn't want to be back in South Park, but he had nowhere else he could go. Not for the first time, Craig wished his family had moved to somewhere decent like Denver. Or somewhere not in Colorado. Maybe like, California or something.

"I know you must be… upset. But there's nothing wrong with taking a little break from school. You can go back when you're ready."

Ugh, god. Here we go. "I'm not going back. I can't do it. I gave up and came home and now I'm going to live with my parents like a loser because good fucking luck trying to find a decent job in South Park." He tried to kick his feet up on the dash, but Thomas swatted his legs back down.

"South Park didn't stop growing just because you left, Craig. There's some opportunities to earn some money so you can maybe get a roommate and live outside the dorms when you go back."

God damn it.

After an excruciating two hour ride home with his dad, Craig was ready to crawl into bed and sleep for a year. Unfortunately, this dream would not be realized because his entire family decided to make a huge deal about him coming home. A big dinner and even a cake, made by Tricia.

"I figured after everything you could use some sweets." She had said, grinning at him as if she had actually been looking forward to him living at home again. Well, actually it kind of did seem like that. Weird.

"You know," Tricia began, halfway through dessert. She shared a knowing look with their mom. "Mom and I went to go get coffee the other day. At Tweak Bros."

"Mhm." Craig hummed through a mouthful of cake, his limbs feeling cold despite the fact that he was still wearing his hoodie. Good god, it'd been _years_ and they were still on this Tweek thing.

"He asked about you, didn't he mom?"

"O-oh, yes he did!" Lauren smiled at him too. This was too awkward to be real. "He asked how you were doing! We told him you were coming home."

God. Damn it.

"I asked you not to tell anyone. What the fuck, mom." It was more a statement than a question, his mind going back to that weird text message from Kenny. Did Kenny find out from Tweek? Or did his mom and sister just go around town announcing he'd be back?

"Oh, it's just Tweek, honey. Maybe you should just go say hi! You used to be so close." Lauren offered, eyeing Craig with what he knew was cautious hope. It wasn't like he didn't love his family and he wanted to make them proud but it would be fucking nice if he could do it without being gay with Tweek.

"Can you knock it off? We broke up in high school and I've told you before I'm not _gay_ I'm _bisexual_. With a strong, strong preference for women."

"Don't act like we don't know who you are, dummy." Tricia retorted, rolling her eyes. "We know _all_ about your preferences that you keep announcing every time you or someone around you says something even remotely queer—" Craig flipped her off, and she flipped him off back. "—But we just meant you've still got friends here, so even though you aren't thrilled to be back in South Park you should still try to socialize and make the best of it."

Oh.

"Got it." Craig stood and picked up his plate, trying not to let the guilt get into his head. He was so used to South Park forcing it's hive mind bullshit on him that he'd automatically assumed his family was trying to get him set back up with Tweek. "I'm going to bed."

Lauren got up to pull him into another hug before saying goodnight, finally leaving him to search out his bedroom in peace. It hadn't changed at all since he left; the model rockets hanging from the ceiling, the sci-fi posters, even the cheesy alien theme bedsheets on his old twin sized bed. He hated to admit that he still liked it, sans the bed size, given that he was technically an adult now. "You're a toddler with a drinking license, Craig." He said out loud to himself, flopping down on the sheets. They smelled clean instead of dusty, so his mom must have washed them for him.

Craig rolled over onto his side, kicking his shoes off and letting them fall onto the floor with a thud. At this angle, he could see the dorky cork board of photographs and movie tickets that Tweek had put up next to his bed.

"I was thinking, maybe this would uh, help you think of your friends more." A young Tweek said in his mind's eye, pinning a picture of their group from Token's 16th birthday party, slightly off center, onto the board. "My therapist said keeping a visual reminder that people like you will help with thoughts about people not liking you."

"I don't care about stuff like that, Tweek."

"Er, yeah okay."

Craig huffed and turned back around. It wasn't long before he succumbed to the exhaustion of the day.

* * *

 _Bzz._

 _From: Jimmy Valmer_

 _Welcome back to town, Craig!_

 _Bzz._

 _From: Jimmy Valmer_

 _Do you have time today? Come meet me at the South Park Gazette._

 _Bzz._

 _From: Jimmy Valmer_

 _I know a great place for lunch. You drive, I'll buy? :)_

"Well someone's popular." Tricia remarked from her spot on the living room floor. She was putting together a puzzle that had consumed most of the walkable space.

"Yeah." Craig sighed, watching the texts at they came in. He hated burst texts. Why couldn't Jimmy just send one, big text? "Everyone in town seems to know I'm back somehow."

Tricia tactfully ignored the implication. "That's good! Looks like you'll have to make some rounds. Catch up. Stop being a loner watching cartoons in his underwear on the couch at 21."

 _Bzz._

 _From: Jimmy Valmer_

 _The crickets are chirping, Craig… What a wonderful audience…_

"God damn it."

 _To: Jimmy Valmer_

 _Give me 20m_

 _Bzz._

 _From: Jimmy Valmer_

 _I don't have 20 mil but I can give you $20._

 _Bzz._

 _From: Jimmy Valmer_

 _Jk! Haha see you in 20_

South Park was a small town, so 20 minutes was more than enough for Craig to sloppily throw on yesterday's clothes (he hadn't unpacked yet), find his mom's car keys (in her purse, which she said was in the kitchen but was found in the bathroom), and find his way to the South Park Gazette.

A bell chimed above the door as he walked in to the small office building. It was strewn with newspaper clippings and photographs across the floor on the desks, which contrasted greatly with the framed awards and shelves of trophy's that were displayed proudly on the walls. The sound of a copier was coming from a room in the back, along with some rather terribly humming to a top 40's song on the radio.

"Jimmy?" Craig called out, picking up the nearest newspaper clipping from the desk closest to the door.

"Just a s-second!" A moment later, Jimmy Valmer stepped out from the back room on his crutches, holding a rather impressive stack of papers in his hand, which were then unceremoniously dumped onto what Craig could only assume was his desk. "Ah! It's good to see you Craig. Quite the f-five o'clock shadow you have for 11 in the morning."

Craig rubbed at his chin. "I woke up late. Nice to see you too."

"W-welcome to my office!" Jimmy gestured vaguely around the room. He looked pleased with himself to be showing off the fact that he worked at _a real_ newspaper. It happened after Craig left, so he was probably the last of their friend group to see it. Clyde had left too, but he always came back for holidays. " _It's_ a bit of a mess right now, I'm in the middle of a big story."

"What's the story?"

"I can't tell you. I don't have all the f-f-facts yet. You'll know what I mean by big when it hits the papers," Jimmy beamed, looking like a kid in a candy shop. There was something a little unsettling about the twinkle in his eyes, but it was gone almost as soon as Craig saw it. "Anyway, let's save the catching up for lunch."

The car ride was surprisingly pleasant. They talked about Jimmy's work for a while before they moved on to reminiscing about the stuff they used to do, tactfully not bringing up Craig's complete absence from their lives. It wasn't that he didn't like his friends, he had just wanted a fresh start from… South Park. Sitting in the car and talking to Jimmy like nothing ever happened made him feel like an asshole.

"It's the restaurant up on the left. Crazy how many new buildings there are, isn't it?" Jimmy ventured, pointing out the window. "Only two years since you left and there's s-so much progress, so many n-new people."

"Yeah, it's pretty fuckin' weird." He agreed, put off by how almost citylike the part of town they were in had become. Thomas had said there would be opportunities for work, but he hadn't imagined that was anything more than complete bullshit.

They got down at a 50's style diner called 'Karen's', which was yet another thing in South Park that hadn't existed when Craig was still living there. "They serve breakfast all day." Jimmy commented as they approached the building, as if that made it better. He didn't care too much for breakfast food.

They were seated at a bubblegum pink booth and handed the most obnoxious looking neon colored menus Craig had ever seen in his life. "How can you see in here?"

"The f-food is worth it, trust me."

"Hey!" Another familiar voice interjected from behind him, "What are you doing in here?"

"J-j-just brought an old friend for lunch! No ulterior motives this time, I promise."

Craig turned in his seat to confirm his suspicions. Stan Marsh had one hand on his hip and another hand on a coffee pot that was currently being tilted and was sloshing dangerously close to the open lid. Given how stained his bright pink apron was, it seemed like this happened a lot. "There better not be Jimmy! I swear to god if I catch you snooping around anywhere that isn't your assigned booth I'm going to lose my mind."

"Does this look like a face that would lie, Stan?"

"Yes. Don't test me Jimmy I was up all-night listening to the in-laws fight and I have had _no_ sleep and therefore have _no_ patience left for whatever it is you get up to."

"S-scouts honor, I will be on my best behavior."

"Were you even a s—" Stan paused mid accusatory finger point when his gaze finally slid over to Craig. He looked confused for a moment before wiping his hand on his sleeve and slapping said hand on Craig's shoulder in greeting. "Haven't seen you in a while, man. Welcome back. Don't let Jimmy drag you into anything."

"As much as your crew used to drag me into shit, I'll take my chances with him."

Stan had a bewildered expression on his face for about a second before he seemed to process what he'd said and let out a hearty laugh that sounded far too masculine for a guy in a baby pink apron. "Fair enough! Let me know when you're ready to order. Coffee?"

Craig knew from their time growing up that, in comparison to the Big Four, Jimmy wasn't really involved in a lot of the bullshit things that went down in South Park growing up. Hearing one member of the absurd group warn him about _Jimmy_ was making him suspicious. And pissed off. If Jimmy was trying to get him involved in some inane fuckery _literally within the first 24 hours of him being in town again_ Craig was going to just get up and leave.

After Stan filled up their cups with coffee and left, Craig gave Jimmy what he hoped was an intimidating stare. "Dude. What the fuck was that about."

"A real journalist has a job to do Craig," Jimmy brought the steaming cup to his mouth and took a sip. He set it down and watched Craig with that shine in his eyes again. "Find the truth; no matter the cost."

"I get that but uh, what the fuck were you doing in this diner in particular and—scratch that I don't actually care. Why did you bring _me_ to this _specific_ diner where you've been up to shit in?"

"Mostly to get lunch."

"Mostly?"

"Believe it or not, I've missed you Craig. Your blunt and honest attitude has always appealed to me as a journalist, and I think you used to be a good friend to have."

Ouch.

"But I would be lying if I said that was my only reason. Do you know who owns this diner, Craig?"

"From the busy work he's doing, I'm guessing it's not Stan."

"Correct. Stan runs it, but he doesn't own it.

"Okay. Who owns it?"

"Kenny McCormick. This isn't the only place in town that has his name on the d-d-dotted line, either."

"Okay." Craig repeated, pursing his lips. That was weird. Kenny was still as poor as ever the last he'd heard. That also meant whatever this thing was that Jimmy was trying to drag him into, it involved at least two of the troublesome four and that was two too many. "This doesn't have anything to do with me." There was a twist in his gut as he said the words, his mind going back to the text he'd received from Kenny the night before. No, he was not getting pulled in, he was not—

"No, but it might eventually. Look, just, if you see anything related, let me know."

"Got it. I won't see anything related because it's got nothing to do with me and I won't put myself in a situation to see shady bullshit but got it."

"That's all I was asking f-for. Thanks."

Despite the disturbing news, the rest of the meal went pretty well. The food was just as good as advertised, even if Stan kept popping in on them obviously more concerned with what Jimmy was doing than refilling their drinks. When it was time for them to part ways, Jimmy asked if he'd be interested in getting together with 'all the guys'. He wondered if he meant the four original guys or if he meant Tweek too. He said he'd think about it, but the answer was actually no. At least, not yet. One day in South Park and Craig already wanted to floor it to Canada or Mexico or somewhere that wasn't fucking South Park.

"Who knows, maybe Kenny just won the lottery or something. Who cares. Nothing to do with me." Craig spoke to himself in the car. It sounded even more like bullshit when he said it out loud. He parked his mom's car in the garage. Not a second after he cut the ignition, his phone went off in his pocket.

"Fucking Jimmy." He sighed, digging in the pocket of his pants for his phone, still at an odd angle in the car. It continued to buzz, meaning it was a call rather than a text. "Who even calls anymore?"

His let out an exasperated noise when he saw who it was.

He ignored it at first, hoping it would just go away, but sure enough as soon as the ringing ended, it started up again. God damn it.

"What?" Craig answered, mock slamming his head into the steering wheel.

"Craig! What's up. Been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Uh huh. What do you want, Kenny?"

"Oh, I just think it's kind of a bummer I haven't seen you yet." Kenny was speaking slowly and it was driving him crazy. It sounded like he was actually trying to socialize over the _phone._ "Did you get my text?"

"Yeah. I was busy, sorry." Craig deadpanned, trying to be as uninteresting as possible. He just wanted to go to his room, watch the syfy channel, and pretend the lunch with Jimmy and Stan and this call with Kenny never happened.

"It's all good dude. Say, you don't have plans tonight, do you?"

God. Damn it. "Yeah, actually."

"That's cool, that's cool. Hey, if you have time, you really should come down and check out this gig I've got going. I'll text you the address. You don't have to dress _nice_ but you might want to put on something decent."

"I'll keep that in mind, if I go."

"Sounds good! Hope to see you there. By the way, next time you have lunch with Jimmy, let me know! I haven't seen that guy in ages."

"Oka—what?"

"Later dude."

Click.

Craig stared at his phone as the screen went from 'call ended' to his regular wallpaper. How the _fuck_ did Kenny know he had lunch with Jimmy? Why would he hang up without explaining how he _knew_ that? Craig closed his eyes and gripped the steering wheel with one hand, squeezing his phone with the other. He took a deep breath. In four hours, it would be the 24-hour mark of him being back in South Park. He had been so, so close to not being dragged into anything.

"Just go. Go and explain to Kenny that whatever stupid thing he thinks I'm going to get involved with, that I'm not going along with it. I'll tell Jimmy that too. Whatever… thing they've got going on I'm not fucking doing it. I'm not. This will not be Peru all fucking over again I won't do it."

After his self-pep talk, he got out of the car and headed upstairs. He supposed he would have to do laundry soon anyway. May as well be now.

* * *

Hours later, Craig pulled up to the address that Kenny had sent him and, not for the first time, wondered what the hell he was getting himself into. He was back in the side of town the new diner was on, only a few blocks away. Google maps had lead him to a large, dark building with no windows. The front didn't have a door, but a white sign on a stand displayed an arrow pointing to the alleyway between the building and the one next to it.

That's not creepy at all.

He wound up having to park further up the street, taking his time to collect his thoughts on the walk back down to the building. This didn't have to be a big deal; he could just say hi like he was visiting an old friend and reassure him that he wanted to have a normal life while living in South Park.

It was fairly quiet for this time of night; a few groups of people standing around smoking and laughing, and the footfalls of Craig's march toward awkward social interaction being the only sounds that perforated the crisp night air. He exhaled and he could see his breath. He pulled his beige trucker jacket (borrowed from Thomas) closer around him and the one flannel shirt he owned. He had been spoiled by California now, and only owned the thinnest of hoodies as far as outerwear went. He hoped his clothing selection served the secondary purpose of looking as boring as possible.

He turned the curve into the alleyway and dutifully ignored the couple doing god knows what behind one of the garbage cans. A cursive neon purple sign stating 'Terminus' hung above a low, brick alcove, stairs leading down as if into a basement. "No wonder Jimmy thinks he's up to some shit. Good job not looking shady, Kenny." He could hear the thumping of music inside as he pulled ineffectually at the door.

Then the eye hole slot opened.

Because of course there's an eye hole slot.

"Name."

"Uh. What the fuck?"

"Name."

"Craig?"

The eye hole closed and the door unlocked, revealing a surly looking guy in a suit. He stepped aside and allowed Craig through, the thumping of the music growing more intense as he walked down the blue hued hall. The light was dim, but when he stepped out of the hallway, it was like he had entered an entirely different building; flashing lights in every color, a stage that looked as though it were made of glass, cages with dancers on each side of said stage, and a dance floor full to the brim with people of all kinds.

Craig had never been to a club before. Not because he hadn't had the opportunity, he just didn't think he would like it. The lights hurt his eyes and the music made his chest vibrate in an unpleasant way, all confirmations that he was right to stay away in the first place. The sooner he found Kenny, the sooner he could get out of here.

He scanned the area as best he could; there was a bar in the far left of the room that was just as neon as the rest of the club, the stage on the right, and the dance floor in the middle. Craig bravely waded through the stumbling, drunken bodies on the outskirts of the dance floor, making his way towards a set of spiral stairs in the back of the room. If Kenny wasn't upstairs, he'd at least have a better shot of seeing him from there.

Once he reached the top of the stairs, he could see that the majority of the second floor was cushions and tables, along with another, smaller bar in the corner.

The second story was more like a large, open rectangle than a full second floor. Craig leaned against the railing and peered down at the people on the dance floor, still unable to recognize any of the faces in the crowd.

Which was weird, because this is South Park. How many fucking people that Craig didn't know could there possibly be?

"Hey man, you made it!"

Kenny's arm made its' way around Craig's shoulder, the smell of cigarette smoke even stronger now that the other man was leaning closely against him. It was weird seeing Kenny out of his trademark parka; he was wearing a partially unbuttoned blue shirt and a pair of slacks, both of which looked designer. Craig couldn't be sure, because he didn't really care one way or another about fashion.

Or at least he thought he didn't. His trucker jacket felt a little big on him, now.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up!" Kenny's smile shone, and Craig realized he'd never noticed Kenny's teeth were a little crooked. "Pretty neat place, huh? How do you like it?"

"I don't care for clubs, but it's okay." Craig responded with a shrug, which felt awkward because Kenny was still kind of holding him. "How did you know I was back in South Park?"

Kenny slid away from him and instead leaned sideways against the railing, his blonde hair artfully mussed in a way that looked effortlessly stylish. "Clyde. Who heard from Jimmy, who heard from Token, who heard from Richard, who overheard your mom telling Tweek."

"Nice." It was hard sounding nonchalant when having to yell to be heard. "Is that how you heard about my lunch with Jimmy?"

Kenny laughed, playfully shoving at Craig's shoulder. "Dude, paranoid much? You kind of sound like Tweek." Craig narrowed his eyes, which caused Kenny to laugh again, "No I heard from Stan. He's gonna throw down with Jimmy if he's not careful. He calls to complain about what he's up to at least once a week."

That sounded… reasonably sane. He could feel the heat on his ears and sorely wished that he'd worn his hat. He'd forgotten it at home. "He does seem to think you're up to something."

"Does he? I guess that explains why he keeps getting caught at my diner." He snorted, looking out over the crowd down below. "Do you think I'm up to something, Craig?"

"I don't care. It's got nothing to do with me."

"That's true. If I was up to something, it'd be none of your business. Luckily for everyone involved, I'm just really good at investing and very into providing for my friends and family."

"What did you invest?" Craig asked incredulously.

"You know, Cartman said something pretty similar, except he provided examples of things I could have possibly invested. You should have been there for it, it was honestly pretty impressive; I was pissed at the time, though." He sighed wistfully, as if thinking of it as a fond memory. "The truth is, I got a loan."

"You got approved for a loan?"

"Well, I didn't go through an actual company. I may or may not have brought Mr. Garrison a gift of some of the finest kush and I may have waited until he was really high to ask for a small loan."

"A small loan got you all this?"

"Well, I wisely invested a small loan of a million dollars. I've since made quite the living for myself, and South Park; if I may be so bold."

Craig choked. "He gave you _that_ much?"

"He was president dude. He's got cash. Also, he was high as fuck."

"I guess." On the inside, he was reeling. Kenny must have a silver tongue, or maybe the weed was laced with a little something extra. Maybe Garrison was just really fucking stupid. "Why did you invite me here? It's not like we were ever good friends. I kind of hated you guys."

"No, you didn't." Kenny brushed him off, standing up straight again and running a hand through his hair. It still looked good. Craig wondered why his always looked like shit when he did it. "I invited you because you haven't been yet; anyone who's anyone knows Terminus. You're socially dead if you don't."

"I'm cool with that."

Kenny shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm just being a good host, and I figured since we're old friends I'd share in the wealth."

"Thanks, but like I said I don't care for clubs. I'm not sure what the draw is."

Once again Kenny wrapped his arm around him, but this time it was to pull Craig in front him. "I think everyone has something to draw them in. Friends, drugs, alcohol—" Kenny's fingers were at his chin, directing his face to a large monitor that was displaying a better view of the cage to the left of the stage downstairs. There was a woman in short shorts, fishnets, a crop top, and the most ridiculous platform boots Craig had ever seen, dancing to the beat of the music. Her body would drop down low, and she would slowly pull herself back up, grabbing the bars, her clothes, her own ass. She was facing the other way, her messy blonde bun threatening to fall out with every sudden movement of her body.

"—Some come for the candy."

As if on cue, the girl in the cage turned around, and it wasn't a girl at all.

It was Tweek.


	2. Chapter 2

The pounding of the beat and the pounding of his head were entirely indifferentiable. There was no series of events, no alternate timelines, and no possibilities for a rift in the space time continuum that could possibly explain how the timid, twitchy, awkward Tweek of his past could be the same Tweek he was seeing now. There was some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe he was still dreaming and this was some kind of fucked up bullshit his brain had concocted to play on fears he didn't even know he had.

Craig jerked his chin out of Kenny's fingers and pushed him away, pointedly trying to avoid looking at the screen. "What the fuck are you trying to say, McCormick?"

Kenny held up his hands in mock surrender, his eyes bright with mischief and a coy smile on his face. "Calm down, Craig. You were looking for a reason to come, and I was trying to give you one."

"I wasn't looking for a reason to come, you dick. I was telling you that I'm not interested in playing whatever game the rest of you fucks are playing." Kenny opened his mouth to respond, but Craig cut him off, "Look, I don't care what anyone is doing here. Not you, not Jimmy, not Stan, and sure as fuck not my ex-boyfriend."

"Dude, chill. This isn't a game; I'm trying to do you a favor." Kenny's voice was smooth, despite the volume they had to speak at over the music. "Look, it doesn't matter to me whether you come here or not. All I'm saying is that this is where you're gonna find your hook ups. Everyone's here. Contacts, jobs, drugs, love, lust. You won't find shit in the older parts of town, man. It's dried up."

"I don't care."

"Suit yourself. If you change your mind, you're always on the welcome list." With that, Kenny gave Craig a friendly slap on the shoulder before moving past him to make his way back down the staircase.

Craig stood there by the railing and watched Kenny disappear into some other door on the first floor, still reeling. He looked, reluctantly, back up to the screen that had provided a better view of Tweek only to see that he was no longer on it. It was now playing some kind of music video that Craig couldn't follow the story of. He peered down to the first floor to see if Tweek was still down there, but all he saw was an empty cage.

He searched through his contacts until he found one that he hadn't used in a long time.

 _To: Tweek Tweak_

 _Hey. Since when did you start… exotic dancing?_

His heart was pounding from the moment he hit send. God, he was an idiot. "It's not like I was trying to avoid getting involved or anything." He muttered sarcastically to himself as he started to pocket his phone, but it buzzed in his hand and he pulled it back out immediately.

 _From: Tweek Tweak_

 _Who's this?_

Oh.

Right. Why would Tweek have kept his number after he dumped him and moved? Craig just took initiative to do the inevitable, and if he knew anything about Tweek, it was that he was full of drama. Craig was just being logical about their breakup, but his ex probably saw him as the bad guy. It was better this way, anyway. "Shit this is the first lucky thing to happen to me in a while." He mused, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Despite his ringing ears, Craig blasted the radio on the way home.

* * *

There was nothing Butters hated more than being at home. The constant tension between his parents, the electronic lock that was still on his door, the bars on his window, the fact that his parents thought they could still ground him despite the fact that he was 21… Butters had long since come to the conclusion that being Butters was probably the worst fate someone could have, and he was the lucky lottery winner.

In the morning he went through the daily routine of trying to make pleasant small talk with his parents without triggering whatever switch his they had that resulted in a punishment like raising his rent or what he has to pay to share the groceries for the month. If he was short on grocery money, he would have to ask his friends for food, which was really embarrassing. Luckily this morning in particular, his parents were involved in conversation over something they saw on TV and Butters only had to occasionally pop in to agree. He was careful to chew each fork full of eggs at least 13 times; that's good for digestion, his mom says.

Once the clock hits 8:30, he can leave the house to be at work by 9:00 to open the library. It didn't pay a lot, but that was the job he could get. He'd been offered jobs over where all his buddies worked, but his dad didn't approve of him being on that side of town.

The only part of Butter's weekly schedule that was erratic was his morning coffee. Anywhere between 9:00 and 11:00, Tweek would show up with a free cup of coffee for him in exchange for unlimited time on one of the library's computers.

Today, Tweek didn't show up until 2:00.

"You don't look so good, buddy." Butters ventured as Tweek set the drink carrier on the front desk. His hair was more of a mess than usual and he hadn't seen him this twitchy in a while.

"Fuckin' augh! You'll never guess what kind of night I had, Butters. This is all his fault!" He pulled his own cup out of the carrier and brought it up to his mouth. Butters opened the side drawer of his desk where he kept his napkins, just in case.

"What kind of night did you have?"

"Ah! I couldn't sleep! It was like, I was living in my own personal hell, a true, tangible nightmare!"

"Er, what happened?" Butters jumped when Tweek slammed his free hand down on the desk.

"Fuck! You know who texted me last night?"

"Oh man, is that Andrew guy still sending you uh..." Butters lowered his voice, "wiener pics?"

"No! I wish that's what my problem was! I would take, like, 100 dick pics from Andrew over the actual, abysmal fuckery that happened to me last night!"

"Tweek, lower your voice! We're in a library!"

"Dude, who else is in here?"

"Oh yeah." The South Park library wasn't exactly a thriving place. The good news is that meant Butters could kick back and read whatever he wanted through most of his shift. The bad news was that it meant he was the only full-time employee so he got kind of lonely sometimes. "Please continue."

"It was fucking _Tucker_."

Butters gasped. "Tucker? Like Craig Tucker?"

"Shhh! Keep your voice down Butters we're in a library!"

"Oops. Sorry. What did he say?"

Tweek drank the rest of what Butters knew to be very hot coffee and slammed the cup down into the trash can by the desk with more force than what was absolutely necessary. "It wasn't 'hello' or 'how have you been' or anything normal to send to your ex. It was 'when did you start-" He paused for a moment before continuing, "exotic dancing'. Like with an ellipsis and _everything._ "

"Oh hamburgers… did he really say that?"

"Yes! Ah! What an asshole! After everything he did to me, after two fucking years of only knowing he's even alive still via Clyde, that dick hole _actually_ has the nerve to send me something like that! He doesn't even know what he's talking about. Argh!"

"What did you say?" Butters leaned forward, intrigued. There wasn't really a whole lot going on in his life at the moment, so he couldn't help but be enthralled in the drama unfolding before him.

For the first time since he'd arrived, Tweek gave a brief, but pleased, smile. "I hit him with one of those 'who's this', like I didn't even keep his number."

"Ooooh that's a good move. I uh, I bet you got him with that!"

"Oh, I'm sure I did! I won't give him the satisfaction."

"Good for you, Tweek! But how did he know about your dancing?"

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, and Butters knew what was going to happen about a second before it did.

"O-oh god… Did he—was he at the club last night? Did he _follow_ me there? Is he _tracking me_?"

"Um, Tweek—"

"Oh god this is the same phone I had when we were dating. He couldn't have bugged it, could he?"

"Tweek—"

"Craig isn't that smart there's no way he—did he pay someone to do it? Ike could probably do it. Did Ike fucking bug my phone?"

"Tweek I really think—"

"I went on a date with Stan and Kyle _one time_ and that little fucker thinks he can—"

"You went on a date with Stan _and_ Kyle? Like at the same time? Together?"

"Yeah they read an article on healthy polyamory and wanted to—wait hold on you're changing the subject!" Tweek sputtered.

"Really? Wow you really are quite… adventurous, Tweek." A female voice came from behind them, and the two boys turned to look at her.

Heidi Turner smiled at the two of them, her arms crossed around her as if she were still cold despite the green winter jacket she was wearing.

"Oh, uh. No. They were a bit too much for me."

Butters let out a sigh of relief. The interruption seemed to have shaken Tweek out of the miniature breakdown he was having, though Heidi wasn't a typical visitor. "Welcome to the library Heidi! Do you need help finding anything? Oh, I bet you don't have a card." Butters started rummaging through his desk to find the blank cards. It wasn't very often that he needed them, so he typically kept them off of his desk to help with clutter.

"Oh, no I don't. I was hoping to talk to you, but I don't want to intrude. I can come back later?" She glanced between Tweek and Butters, looking filled to the brim with nerves.

"I was just leaving. My shift at Tweak Bros starts soon so… Bye I guess."

Tweek waved good bye to the two of them, leaving without using his free computer time. Butters wondered if he actually needed to leave or if he was embarrassed that Heidi heard about his one-time venture. "What did you want to talk about, Heidi? They way you're jitterin' makes me a lil nervous, too."

That made Heidi laugh, but her genuine smile slid into an awkward one fairly quickly. "Um. I don't want you to think that I'm upset with you or anything, because I'm not. I just… Well, Eric showed me a text that you sent him a few days ago and I was worried."

"How long ago was this?" Butters didn't remember sending any texts to Eric recently. She motioned to his phone sitting on the desk, so he picked it up and started scrolling.

 _To: Eric 3_

 _Heyyyy Eric! You knkow w e havnt had a slumber patry in a while ;)_

 _From: Eric 3_

 _Dude what the fuck are you talking about. Are you drunk or something?_

 _To: Eric 3_

 _Don't act like uo don't rmember come here I will tuck u in bed_

 _From: Eric 3_

 _I'm not gay Butters. Try asking Kyle._

The further Butters scrolled the hotter his cheeks burned. This was from back in October, when he drank a little too much of the punch at Stan's birthday party. It only continued to get worse from there. He stopped scrolling and set the phone back down, peering back up cautiously at Heidi.

"You don't remember do you?"

"N-no Heidi… Gee I'm really sorry… I don't even… I don't remember—I was definitely a little tipsy."

He felt a little less nauseated when she smiled again, reaching out to hold his hand. "It's okay Butters. I understand. Eric is… There's something really special about him, he kind of just draws you in until you feel like you couldn't get away even if you tried, even if you wanted to." Butters nodded in shy agreement. "But you have to try Butters. Eric and I have had our rough patches but… we always come back to each other, and we'll always be together. You have to… find someone else. You know?"

"Yeah, I uh, I'm sorry. I never would have sent it if I was… Uh, well, I'll try Heidi, and it won't happen again." He struggled to form the sentence, relieved Heidi wasn't mad but horrified that she'd seen what he'd sent, and that he'd sent it at all.

"Thank you, that's all I ask." She smiled again and patted the back of his hands. Her hands were soft, it must be one of the reasons Eric liked her so much. "See you around, then?"

"Yeah, bye bye Heidi."

When she left, Butters sank into his chair and rested his head a little harder than necessary on his desk. "Why do you gotta be so gosh darn stupid sometimes, Butters! Why do you get yourself into these situations?" He moaned to himself once he was alone. If Eric showed her the texts, he wondered if he'd told her about the times they'd broken up.

Whether Heidi breaks up with Eric or Eric breaks up with Heidi, the first thing that happens is Eric shows up on Butter's doorstep. It's Butters he comes to for comfort, to talk to, to sleep next to and be held. In those sweet, tender moments where Eric opens up and expresses his true feelings; doesn't deny anything. Eric's lips are soft and pink and—

"Uh. I can't get on the computer." A voice drawled out, startling Butters from his daydreams, causing him to jerk upwards. "Oh, it's Butters. Do you get paid to sleep? If I could get paid to sleep, I would be sooooo happy."

Butters hadn't heard him come in, but standing before him now was the aforementioned Craig Tucker, looking kind of scruffy, like he'd had about as much sleep as Tweek had. He wore a threadbare black sweater that was a little too wide and showed a little too much of his collar bone, which looked a little too perfect with his mussed black hair. Butters coughed forcefully to banish any and all dirty thoughts about his friend's ex, which couldn't possibly be blamed on him anyway, since he'd just been thinking about Eric and all. Yeah.

"Uh yeah hi, Craig. You need a library card and an access code. The first hour is free but after that you have to pay." He opened the drawer again to grab a blank card that he'd originally started grabbing for Heidi.

"Man, even the library's trying to gut me. I guess I'll be here for an hour then. I've got no choice; my laptop is being shipped via snail mail."

"Oh wow, that's rough buddy."

"I guess."

Once he had everything he needed, Craig walked over toward the computers. Butters idly wondered if Craig did squats. "Do you learn nothing, Butters?" He whispered, smacking himself on the face loudly enough that Craig turned around to look at him before rolling his eyes and booting up a computer.

Good grief, any more guests today and he was going to lose his mind. The library was too slow for his heart to be put through so much chaos in one day.

 _Bzz._

 _From: Kenny McCormick_

 _Hey you need lunch today?_

Butters smiled at the text when it came in, pleased to have some form of relaxed social interaction. Kenny was always so easy to talk to and was always doing nice things like bringing him lunch when his parents cut him off from groceries.

 _To: Kenny McCormick_

 _No but if you want a lunch buddy today I wouldn't be opposed! :) You know, Tweek just left like thirty minutes ago and Craig just came in! Talk about a close call PHEW_

 _From: Kenny McCormick_

 _Phew is right. If Tweek doesn't punch Craig in the face when they finally run into each other, I'll eat my hands._

Butters gasped louder than he had meant to and Craig turned around to look at him again. Butters angled his phone away, as if he could possibly read what they were writing from this far away.

 _To: Kenny McCormick_

 _You really think so? Gee I hope not, but I also don't want you to have to eat your own hands so…_

Another buzz came through, but it wasn't from his phone. Butters watched Craig pull out his own phone.

"What the fuck…?" Craig muttered, staring intently at the screen. He watched him tap furiously on his phone. Another second went by before he put the phone to his ear. He was up now, pacing up and down the row of computers. "Hello? Fuck. Tweek pick up! What happened? God damn it!" Butter's heart leapt to his throat when he heard Craig utter his friend's name in what sounded like, for Craig anyway, distress. It must have gone to voicemail, because he hung up and grabbed his new library card off the computer desk a rushed out the door, leaving whatever he'd been working on open and unfinished.


End file.
